A monk with a hard on in a lavender robe
   That scratches his thighs for the height that he strode
   As he follows a path filled with harried desire
   And mimics his footsteps and sets his prayers on fire
   Glad to have chosen that which left no choice
   To sing without loving in a solitary voice
   To observe with passion each careful denial
   The protrusions which give my life meaning for a while
  
   Sometimes I see you eating berries and weeds
   You're brushing your teeth with licorice seeds
   Standing too close, holding your clothes
   Smiling at God, the meaning of life grows
   No, no I'll never tell and I'll never know
   What candles you light after the show
   And I'll never tell and I'll never ask
   The meaning of life after mass